| Yeah, yeah, yeah
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| You talk too much shit
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| You know niggas always talkin bout bitches ain’t shit
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| Money over bitches
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| We give all our money to the bitches any fuckin way
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| (I love my bitch)
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| So I’ma send some love out
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| To the bitches, holla
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| Shit, here’s somethin to remember
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| When we met that day in September
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| But, you’ve been gone since November
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| Had to finish out yo' last college semester
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| Her major — brokerage investor
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| She probably go broke tryin to invest her
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| Time and money in somethin that she call love
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| Cause, she love fuckin with thug niggas
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| That alwasy get high and had to be drug dealers
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| Eventually, she hooked up with some hood bitches
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| The hood bitches turned her on to strippin
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| Now the, gettin is good and it’s well understood
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| That money on the wood can make things get harder
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| Be glad I’m not a pimp, if I was I’d charge ya
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| But for all that you go through, just thought I’d let you know
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| Hoes need love too, I’m fuckin witchu
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| Niggas need to read the man-u-al
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| To seperate your housewife from a hoe
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| Cause there’s no rules to this shit here
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| Am I makin myself clear?
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| What she don’t know won’t hurt her y’all
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| So keep big pimpin on the low
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| Cause there’s no rules to what I do
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| And I know, hoes need love too
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| You know what they say right? |
| Bitches ain’t shit
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| And all men are dogs cause we just wanna fuck
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| Sundown to sun up, one up on a hoe
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| I might go down on the low, that’s just me though
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| From L-A-X to Heathrow, I’m one of them niggas
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| That really doesn’t need no, introduction
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| When I met her she was «Girl, Interrupted»
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| Grew up became a woman not to be trusted
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| Frustrated and flustered, living amongst
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| These thieves hoes and hustlers, I’m diggin what’s next
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| She had a studio apartment in the projects
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| With her and her girl from D.C. used to bus checks
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| And hold the coke, her niggas ain’t sold yet
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| In hopes the copes don’t know about all this
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| Shiiiiit, for all that you go through
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| Just wanna let you know, hoes need love too
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| Niggas need to read the man-u-al
|
| To seperate your housewife from a hoe
|
| Cause there’s no rules to this shit here
|
| Am I makin myself clear?
|
| What she don’t know won’t hurt her y’all
|
| So keep big pimpin on the low
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| Cause there’s no rules to what I do
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| And I know, hoes need love too
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| Fake nails, fake breasts, fake eyes too
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| It’s oh-four, and that’s kinda what we used to
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| But you don’t holla back like you used to, but I ain’t mad at cha
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| I’m happy for a bitch, even if I can’t have her
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| I remember when you was down in Atlanta
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| Workin gentlemen’s clubs and you didn’t even know what a gentlemen was
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| Forty to love and I wanna serve
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| That body like Serena’s with less curves
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| But actions speak louder than words, and you gettin your money
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| Mami every month, 15th and 1st
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| Shit could be worse, you could be in the struggle
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| Or born with no ass and have nothin to hustle
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| Go on flex your muscle, cause that ain’t the case is it?
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| Go on get your paper keep flossin on these bitches
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| Cause for all that you go through
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| Just thought I’d let you know, hoes need love too, I’m fuckin witchu
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| Niggas need to read the man-u-al
|
| To seperate your housewife from a hoe
|
| Cause there’s no rules to this shit here
|
| Am I makin myself clear?
|
| What she don’t know won’t hurt her y’all
|
| So keep big pimpin on the low
|
| Cause there’s no rules to what I do
|
| And I know, hoes need love too
|
| Niggas need to read the man-u-al
|
| To seperate your housewife from a hoe
|
| Cause there’s no rules to this shit here
|
| Am I makin myself clear?
|
| What she don’t know won’t hurt her y’all
|
| So keep big pimpin on the low
|
| Cause there’s no rules to what I do
|
| And I know, hoes need love too
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| Ha ha ha, yeah, Rule |